


Relief

by KieraRutherford



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Happy Ending, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, Medical marijuana, Recovery, heavy theme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-08-27 12:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16702957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraRutherford/pseuds/KieraRutherford
Summary: Cullen decided to leave the Order, knowing full well the agony he was set to endure. But it isn't as easy as he thought. After seeing several doctors he meets a random stranger at the clinic who offers to help him. Together they mend each other and find a new reason to breathe. After all, they both just need a little Relief.





	1. Relief

He’d been to several doctors, all of them telling him his near blinding nerve pain and aches would pass in time. Lyrium was a hell of a withdrawal. If it wasn’t the insomnia keeping him up at all hours, it was the anxiety it brought with it. Hitting when he was down, making him second guess everything he’d ever done. Finally, on his way to the after-hours clinic again, he bumped into a thicker woman, unimposing looking with half frame glasses. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He tried to clear his throat as the agony wracked his body. “It’s ok, most people don’t. You… you don’t look too good. Can I help?”

“Unless you’re a doctor, I don’t know. At this point I’m willing to try anything.” Hanging his head, he was trapped. Shackled to a body failing him, with a mind beating him down further. “I might be able to. This is going to sound totally insane but come with me.” She held her hand out, waiting for him. Blinking a couple times, he placed his hand in her. What was there to lose? If she took him to the parking lot and stabbed him to death, he might actually get some decent sleep. “I… Alright. Uh, my name is Cullen.” He was still struggling to clear the thickness in his throat, that tightened and threatened to choke off his air. “I…”

“You’re one of them. I can tell. Ex-Templar. They don’t help your kind very well. Shitty bastards.” Gritting her teeth, she took her time and walked him outside. “I’m parked just over here. Did you walk or?”

“Walk. Can’t drive. Too much pain.” He was beginning to feel dizzy again, the same thing he’d been feeling for days now. Since they took him off the lyrium, since he handed in his badge and left. Now he was blearily aware of the young woman helping him into her car, passing the buckle over his hips and clipping it in. “Try to relax. I promise, I’m here to help. My name is Lara. I… I had a brother who was one of your kind once.” 

“You… who…” her voice was beginning to blend together, and his pain was starting to cause him to shake. The meds they’d given him were wearing off and he was starting to go back into heavy withdrawal. Something the fourth doctor had told him about. “There will be periods of intense nausea, loss of sensation and numbness or cold extremities. Cold sweats can waver to intense periods of heat. You’ll want to crawl out of your skin. And these are all the lesser symptoms, Captain Cullen. Are you serious about going through this? You can continue…”

“I want out. I’m not a templars anymore.” He’d clenched his jaw and managed to bite out the words as his stomach flopped about. “Is there anything you can give for the pain?”

“Certainly not. Anything I can prescribe will only exacerbate the situation. Or worse, create a chemical addiction to those drugs. You will simply have to suffer through it, I’m sorry.” Signing off on some paperwork, the doctor was done with him as quickly as he’d seen him. 

“Hey, stay with me Cullen.” Lara’s hand was on his thigh, trying to rub and soothe. “Not ideal, I know but we’re almost there. I promise some relief soon.”

“Relief…” his mind tried to wrap around the words. “I… it’s been…”

“Too long. I know.” Her tone had lowered, and he could feel the anger that radiated through her as she drove. “Damned Chantry, tossing it’s men and women on the streets after getting them addicted. Bloody bastards.” Pulling down a street that mirrored the last three she coasted the car into the driveway of a single-story bungalow. “Come on, I’ll help you inside if you need it.” Seeing him second guess her she sighed, “look at me. Do I look like someone who could harm you? I’m a clean thirty pounds overweight, at least half a foot shorter than you and I wheeze if I go up stairs. You, on the other hand could snap my neck in a blink of an eye, and I bet you wouldn’t even think about it.” 

“I… I wouldn’t harm you.” He blinked as he clicked the release on his seat belt. “I… you are right. I… it is not easy to trust.”

“Believe me, I know.” Dropping her head for a moment she let her dyed purple hair slide over her eyes. “Come on. Sooner we get inside, the sooner you can get some relief.” 

Cullen held his thoughts to himself as he exited the car and climbed the few steps to her front door. Waiting for her to unlock it, he took a look around, trying his best to memorize the street name and house number. 

“It’s not much. Not since mom and dad died, but it serves it’s purpose.” Waving him in she sighed again heavily. “I should tell you about myself, it might help to put you at ease. My name is Lara Selke, my brother was a templar, like our father before him. He… they kicked him out of the order because he refused to do something, he felt was wrong. When he came home, he was a mess,” walking into the living room, she pointed him to a couch. “Withdrawal hit him hard. All the Chantry doctors tried to get him to repent and beg to rejoin the templars. He did that, and they turned him out. He….” Tears ran hot down her cheeks, “the withdrawal took him. Bastards.”

Sitting stunned and aching he went to stand when his legs gave out. “Shit… I’m sorry.” He mumbled as he struggled to get to his feet. Suddenly her arms were around him, carefully easing him up, steadying him. “Please, don’t apologize. I want to help. You aren’t the first to fall and if I could have my way you would be the last.” She had a warm smile upon her thick lips, a tint of rouge across her high cheek bones. “Forgive me, if this is upsetting to you… I… it’s instinct by now. Please, sit.” 

“Alright, thank you Lara.” Allowing her to guide him into the couch he sighed. It was soft and seemed to hug him in a way that comforted his aching body. Closing his eyes, he thanked her again. Silence returned his words and slowly he cracked an eye open to see her coming back from what he thought was the kitchen, a tall glass of ice water in her hand. “Here, take a few sips. Then, we’ll figure you out.” Her smile easily disarmed any fear he may have had as he drank nearly half the glass. “Good. Now, tell me your pain.” 

Cullen went into detail. It was so mechanical at this point, he’d ratted it off at least a dozen times to doctors and half a dozen more to nurses. As he spoke, he caught the look in her eyes, a deep sorrow, easily he tied it to the loss of her brother, his story must be so like his. “I’m sorry, I’m causing you pain.” He’s furrowed his brow, looking down into the cup in his lap. “I… I don’t have anyone. At least, not anyone that knows. I… I wasn’t kicked out. I left.”

“Brave.” She uttered before rising again. “I’ll be a moment. Make yourself comfortable. Have you eaten today? Recently? You look a little gaunt about the cheeks.” She flushed a deep red again as her eyes grazed over him. He was dressed comfortably, a pair of loose fitted jeans with a plain t-shirt under his bomber jacket. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, not since the withdrawal kicked in. There was a fear of cutting himself or worse and he hadn’t bothered. His hair was similar, his hands shook too badly to properly tend to it and now it had worked its way out of the product he’d used to tame his wavy curls. Running his hand through his hand, out of nervous habit he watched her smile again at him before she dipped into the kitchen. 

Looking about the room there were no red alarms raised in his mind. Pictures on the wall were of family, larger ones sat upon a heavy oak mantle above an old looking fireplace. Well used and often tended to, by the look of the wood pile next to it. It was comfortable, cozy even and reminded him fondly of his childhood home. Small, too small for his large family but just right when alone. This living room felt off, empty. Looking at the picture above the fireplace he could see why. They were tight knit, and she clearly loved her brother. With no one left this was her only life. “Hey,” she smiled again sitting next to him. “How’s the pain?” 

“Manageable, if you want to hear a lie. Killing me slowly, if you want the truth.” He chuckled weakly at his own gallows humor. Placing a hand on top of his she drew in a long breath, “I can’t ask you to totally trust a stranger, and I know all this must seem like some crazy dream, but I promise this will help.” Placing an odd-looking glass apparatus on the coffee table she handed him a thin hose coming from the object. “This is perfectly legal, and entirely safe. I promise you it will make you feel so much better and I will be there with you.” She slipped another glass tube filled with an odd-looking green herb into the apparatus. “Just put that piece in your mouth and when I tell you to, breath in. Hold that breath for a few seconds and let it out.”

“I… alright.” Unsure of any of it, he watched her take out a lighter and burn the herb. She had a similar looking hose and puffed a few times, smoke coiled up. “Now.” She calmly said exhaling away from his face. “It’s medicinal and I promise it will help.”

At this point he was more than willing to try it, try anything that might help. Drawing in a lung full he coughed and sputtered. It didn’t burn, not like he was expecting. Instead he felt his body hum, a soft pulse as the ache began to float away from him. “Careful, not too much. I don’t want you to green out.” She giggled before drawing another puff. “Take another good lung full and that’ll be enough for now.” 

Following her instructions, the second intake was smoother, and his lungs didn’t struggle. Holding it for a count of three he blow out. No smoke came out, only usual air to his eyes. “What…”

“Marijuana. It’s legal, but most people don’t know how to use it for your situation or what it can do. How do you feel?” Placing her hose down she paused. “It’s called a hookah. Useful for those who can’t pull the air or don’t know how much to take. I only filled the chamber with enough to calm your body. Nothing more.”

“I… there’s no pain.” Flexing his fingers out he smiled. “No pain at all. But… I’m hungry.”

“Good. You haven’t eaten in some time. I can tell. Nausea is one of the symptoms. You can sit here or join me in the kitchen. Either way, its up to you.” Calmly and with a practiced ease she rose from his side and went to the kitchen where she instantly began cooking a hearty meal. Cullen sat a few moments longer on the couch, absorbing the sudden easing of his symptoms. 

Standing was interesting and odd. There was no initial shock of pain, or the weakness his limbs held when the withdrawal hit. Further to that his stomach was calm, and hunger ached through him. Walking down the hall he made his way towards the kitchen. Settling at the island she was working at he watched with a renewed interest as she whipped and beat some eggs. “What…”

“Omelet. Rich with protein and easy on the tummy. Need to build your strength up and it’ll break down quickly enough. Hope you aren’t allergic. Are you?”

“No. No I’m fine. I like eggs.” He felt the heaviness of his eyelids forcing them half open. “This… is a really strange but wonderful feeling.”

“Pain free. Soon, a full belly to go with it.” Her smile was bright and to him the sights seemed sharper, and more complex. That’s when he noticed an interesting side effect. “It’s quiet.” He muttered the words out softly, as the smile began to growl across his lips. His mind was still. Something he hadn’t experienced since the days he took the lyrium. It washed away his worries, and after time he knew eventually his mind. That was one of the things he couldn’t let happen. One of the reasons he’d decline half the prescriptions given by the doctors. “This is more addictive than the lyrium.” He growled staring at the letter in his hand. “Opioids are one of the most addictive substances in modern medicine.” 

“That’s all we have for your symptoms. Either except it or don’t.” The doctor coldly shrugged typing away in his record before logging out of the computer and leaving him alone with the script. Cullen immediately ripped it up and threw it in the garbage before storming from the office, the anger the only thing keep him moving. 

“Are you alright?” Lara touched his hand and broke him from his thoughts. “Lunch is served.” Placing the meal before him she hummed to herself as she turned to clean her mess. “Thank you,” he managed to get out in a croak, the emotions wearing on him. Taking the fork, he began to dig into the omelet. Fresh bits of chunked ham, cheese and vegetables tasted bright and fresh as he greedily shoved it into his mouth. Once the platter was clean, he looked up to see her smiling wide, a cup of steaming coffee in her hands. “How do you feel?”

“Full.” He sighed content and at peace. “But…tired.”

“Good. Follow me.” Moving around the counter she led him down the hall to a bedroom. “It was my brother’s now it serves as my little templar clinic.” Opening the closet, she took his jacket and hung it. “There are clothes in the drawers, something will fit, I promise. You can shower in the morning. Sleep will hit you hard and fast once you lay down. In the bathroom in the drawer are brand new, still in package tooth brushes and small tubes of travel size toothpaste. Clean up, change and lay down. Don’t worry about anything else for today. We’ll talk and enjoy a cup of coffee tomorrow.”


	2. Rising

Washing up in the bathroom the minty toothpaste tingled on the tip of his tongue. A strange mix of burning that didn’t hurt or harm, just was. After washing his face and toweling off he returned to the small bedroom. Stripping down he placed his clothes neatly folded upon the chair in the corner. With the shades drawn and sleep tugging at him he pulled the covers back and crawled into bed. Within a matter of moments, he was soundly asleep and that was the last thing he remembered before waking in the morning. Blinking he sat up, feeling more refreshed than he had in months. So much so he had to laugh. It felt incredible and he instantly wanted to rush and thank Lara. But first he was in dire need of a shower. 

Collecting some clothes, he peeked out of the bedroom door down the hall. Silence answered him, and the bathroom door was open. Quietly as he could he slipped into the room and locked the door. Setting things up best he could we turned the water on and got in. Blessed hot water trailed over his body as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. 

He couldn’t remember the last time his body felt like his own. Couldn’t remember the last time sleep came easily and deeply. Nor the rest he felt when he got up that moment. With a clear mind he felt strange. As his fingers worked the lather upon his head the usual sensitivity was back. Carefully he went about finishing cleaning himself down. The ache slowly returning and his stomach twisting.

With shaking hands, he turned the taps off and pulled the towel off the rack by the shower. Dabbing at his face and neck his mind began to race. Silence was its own worst enemy. He’d seen a lot in his time as a Captain in the order. Too much. Wrapping the towel around himself he slipped back across the hall and dressed. Lara had been honest, there were clothes his size in the drawers and something comfortable against his sensitive skin. 

Sniffing the air, he caught the familiar scent of bacon wafting down the hall. Scrubbing the towel over his head one more time he carefully made his way to the kitchen. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” he hung his head as he took a seat across from her at the island. “Oh, you didn’t wake me.” Lara gave him a wide smile as she opened the oven, the smell of bacon intensified. “I usually get up around this time. Best way to get a start on your day is with a hearty breakfast. How did you sleep?” 

“I… I actually slept.” Chuckling he looked up to see her slide a cup of coffee towards him. “Cream and sugar?” She asked politely as she opened the fridge door. “Please,” he said as he reached out for the mug. Taking it in his hands he was trying to hide the tremors. “It’s back this morning, isn’t it?” Lara frowned as she passed him the cream, bowl of sugar and a spoon. “When it gets bad, tell me?” Turning her back to him she continued to work away at the stove, a pan on the back burner with something he couldn’t see it in. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am, if not a bit queasy. I suppose that is better than what I have been feeling.” Taking a sip of his coffee he sighed. “The body aches are coming back. My… my hands shake.” He couldn’t bring himself to look up, couldn’t bare seeing the look in her eyes. This was his battle and despite the torture he was experiencing he felt a heavier weight settle over him. Burden. He didn’t want to become her burden. It was the main reason he never told his siblings about his decision. After leaving the Order, they set him up with a tidy pension, something he ‘earned’ with his high accolades and solid work. Now, he could barely get out of bed most days. “I...”

“I have something for the aches. Does it affect a specific place, or does it radiate all over?” Her question was innocent, lacking the hints of aggression he was used to when nurses and doctors prodded. “Well, uh… it’s mostly my back. Sometimes it feels like my spine is on fire, and then my nerves begin to twitch.” Sipping again he sighed loudly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry?” She stopped everything and turned to face him. Seeing the heavy line crease his forehead she quietly moved around the island to sit next to him. Tenderly she placed her hand on his. “Cullen, I was left with nothing after my brother died. I’m alone. No friends, no family and a bitterness that would probably destroy most people. Instead I decided I wanted to help. I went to the government and I applied for all the grants and permits, and do you know what happened?” 

“You were turned down.” The crease in his forehead deepened as he looked into her eyes. “I…”

“Yes. Everywhere I turned I was shut down and shut out. So, I decided screw it all. I had my brother’s pension. He left no wife and no children. I was going to do good in his name. I purchased what I needed, food, clothes, medical supplies and I waited. Went to the hospitals and watched. When I saw someone like you, I approached them. At first it was terrifying.” Chuckling she ran her thumb over his knuckles, a warm and sweet sensation. “So many of you are larger than me. It was probably foolish at first, but they were thankful and after a few weeks, a month or two they would leave me. Move on with their lives and be happy. Some still come by, dropping off things they think I’ll need for new men and women or myself.” Taking her hand away she held tight to her own mug. “Without this, I have nothing. So please, don’t be sorry for what you see as a burden. It’s a comforting thought to know what I’m doing is helping and that my brother would be proud. You…” she choked on the words, having to take a sip of her coffee to steady herself. “You will forget me in time.” 

Before she could rise to leave his side, he snatched her wrist, “I won’t forget you. I swear it.” As if to placate him she patted his hand, “come now, breakfast is nearly ready.” 

In silence she plated his meal and then hers. Sitting across from him she ate with her head down, tears lingering at the edge of her vision. He could see it, feel it in the air between them. Digging into his meal he felt a kinship. ‘I will stay, and I will repay this.’ He made an oath to himself as he watched her try to dab at her eyes, a soft sniffle coming from her. ‘She’s been through a lot.’ He finally got a chance to truly see her. She couldn’t have been any older than him, easily younger. There were no signs of age upon her soft pale face. Freckles dotted her cheeks and lightly dusted her nose. Wide hazel eyes were focused on her meal as she pushed it about her plate. “You should eat too.” He kept his voice soft and by instinct he reached across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.” She adorned her usual smile before carving a bit of her ham up and popping it into her mouth. Smoothly she tucked a some of the stray purple chin length hair back from her face. “You should too. We can address your back afterwards.”

He’d forgotten his aches when he focused on her. She was hurting too, and that was a thought he couldn’t let go of. One that pushed his usual doubting and self-loathing demons away. Watching her gather up her plate, she began to fill the sink with hot water. “I can help.” Cullen rose, taking his plate and carefully slipping it into the water. “Please.”

“You should prepare for the next bout. You aren’t been through the worst of your withdrawal and I’m sure you’ve only just begun your journey.” Her eyes were filled with sorrow as the tears continued to cling to the corners of her eyes. “There is fresh coffee still in the carafe and if you would prefer tea, I usual take an afternoon tea around one.” Sniffling again she hung her head over the sink, adding the mornings dishes and beginning the process of washing. 

Not trying to push her he nodded and quietly paced back to the living room. Along the fireplace wall sat two solid oak, built in bookcases. Scores of books sat upon the shelves. Everything from the classics to a litany of romance novels. Plucking a book down he read the title, “Finding Fortitude by Kiera Rutherford.” Grinning he flipped the book over. It was about a man struggling with addiction issues in the midst of getting his life together. Setting into the chair nearest the fireplace he curled up and began reading. 

Immersed in the world of the book, time held little hold over him. Only the soft humming ache that pulsed through his bones and spine brought him any discomfort. Escaping from the pain through reading had been the trick he’d used in the early stages, trying his best not to focus on the growing discomfort. Sooner than he liked he felt the sharp stabbing sensation coupled with the burning swell spread over his shoulders and seeped down his back. Groaning he placed his book upon the table. “Aches?” Lara was there across from him, crocheting a large patchwork of materials. “Come.” Setting her hook and material down in an old wicker basket under the end table beside her she rose and waved him to follow. 

Standing outside his temporary room her cheeks were tinted a soft pink. “Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach.” 

“What?” Cullen paused, watching as she collected something from the top of a hall closet. “I…”

“I promise it will help and I mean no harm.” Cupping the black bottle in her hands she cleared her throat. “Lay with your head at the end of the bed. I… I promise this will help.” 

There was a softness to her, something that disarmed and reassured despite the oddness of the request. Trusting that she had only shown kindness and taken him in without asking for anything, he decided to play along. Walking into the room he untucked the plain shirt from his pants and hauled it over his head. As his shoulders reached up, he groaned. It was a sharp shooting pain that nearly caused him to double over. Panting as he brought his arms down, he did his best to grit his teeth through it. “Take your time. No rush.” Her voice was airy behind him but anchoring. Folding his shirt as he usually did, he turned and placed it on the chair before climbing on to the bed. Angling his body to lay with his head at the end of the bed, he drew in a few calming breaths.

“Thank you.” She softly padded over to him, rolling the dark bottle in her palms. “Relax, I know that’s a tall order, but it will be better for you if you do.” Coming to stand beside him she hummed again, some tune from the radio he was mildly aware of hearing before. “I’m going to apply an oil to your back. It will take the ache away and then I will apply a cream over top, so you don’t wreck your shirt. We can have lunch after, if you are feeling up to it.”

Unsure of what to expect he tried to slow his breathing. It wasn’t uncommon with all the doctors and nurses, blood tests and examines for someone to be touching his skin. But that was all before the withdrawals kicked in. Now, he was sensitive, so much more than he had ever been and it was uncomfortable. Resting his head in his arms he closed his eyes. “Tell me if I am hurting you, please.” Again, her voice was so gentle and reassuring, he answered with a wordless nod as he tried to let his mind wander. “My hands are warm; the oil is a bit cooler than I’d like. I’ll heat it before I apply it, I promise.” With that she breathed upon her hands, warming the oil between her palms. 

First, she touched his shoulders with just her fingertips, gauging his sensitivity and where the pain was coming from. As he let out little grunts, groans and whimpers she adjusted the pressure and weight of her hands. Working the knots with a tenderness that went beyond her years. As the oil absorbed into his pores, he felt a tingling, similar to the minty icy cold muscle relaxer he’d used before. This was nicer. It soothed instead of burned. Pulling the aches from him as her blessed hands rubbed and worked it in deeper. “That’s amazing.” He sighed out against himself, forgetting where he was. “I hope so.” She chuckled back as she continued until he caught the subtle grunts coming from her. “You’re hurting yourself.” He rose to his elbows, turning back to she her biting her bottom lip, the tension clear between her eyes. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” She tried to play it off as her hand went into a cramping spasm. 

“Stop. Please.” He sat up sharply and took her hands in his. Rubbing her palms, he was quick to apologize. “My hands aren’t nearly as soft as yours. I’m sorry if I hurt you.” With his head down, he missed the look of stunned shock that painted her features. “I’m also not as good as you.” Cullen sighed as he rubbed his thumbs over her palms, easing the spasm away. “I wasn’t a medic, but I did get some basic training.” 

“It’s alright. Thank you.” With the spasm past she cleared her throat and pulled away. “Lunch will be in fifteen minutes. You can put your shirt back on.” Rushing away from him she fled to the kitchen. 

Reaching for his shirt he was quiet. As he unfolded it and went to pull it over his head, he caught the sound of sobbing coming from outside of his room. Unsure of what to do he waited, letting her have a private moment. Flexing his shoulders, he felt relief. Wanting to check it, he laid flat upon the floor and placed his knuckle shoulder width from his chest. Pushing up he felt the familiar tension of the muscles in his back as they worked. Smiling he set a small goal and began to perform several different complex versions of a push up till sweat beaded up about his temples and a single drop slid down his back before it was caught by the cotton of his shirt. Flipping onto his back he echoed the motions with different sit ups. Finally collapsing upon the floor, he laughed, before throwing his arm over his eyes. It felt good to have some control over his body, to be able to perform some of the usual work out routines he was used to doing. 

“Lunch is ready.” Lara yelled down the hall and he quickly sat up. Wiping his forehead off on the forearm of his sleeve he rose. Checking himself over in the body length mirror he felt more himself. Walking through the doorway he calmly strolled into the kitchen. “Thank you so much, I feel more myself today than I have in some time.” He gave her a bright, wide smile as he took his seat across from her. 

“It was nothing. I only wish it would make what is to come easier.” Her eyes were red as she set a plate before him. “Were you told what to expect? Any symptoms?” 

“Not really. Just that I would wish for death by the end of it.” Cullen shrugged, enjoying the soft hum of his worked muscles. “I am ready to deal with whatever comes next.”

“I don’t think you are. No one could be.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she dabbed at her eyes. “Its… It starts with nightmares. Terrible, vivid nightmares. Then cold and hot sweats, full body paralysis like sensation to every nerve ending being on fire. You won’t be able to keep anything down. Not food or water. You will be delirious, speak all forms of nonsense and then, then you’ll sleep. A merciful, dreamless coma for a day, maybe three. When you wake, you will suffer mild forms of what you feel now, and you’ll be fine.” She wrung the wash clothe in the sink, continuing to wring it until her fingers turned white. “This all will take nearly a week to pass. Possibly longer if you were on it long. Some… some don’t make it and I help ease their suffering best as I can.”

“How many have you lost?” It was a question he wanted to ask but hadn’t meant to just straight blurt it out as he had. Pausing he let out a long breath of air, “I apologize that was unkind.”

“No. No it’s justified.” With a crinkle across her forehead and a weak smile as poured a cup of steaming herbal tea for him. “I… I have lost ten in four years.”

“Four years!” Cullen’s eyes shot wide. “I thought you were much younger.” 

“Thank you.” Lara laughed, warm and honest as she tucked some hair behind her ear. “I’m thirty-one. But I don’t see myself as old. Just, myself.” Again, her cheeks were painted a vibrant red up to the tips of her ears. “You don’t look very old either. Not the usual gentlemen I assist anyways.”

“I… I walked away.” Cullen rested his elbows upon the table, pressing his knuckles into his lips before deciding to tell her the story. “Its…”

“Please, I want to hear it all.” Sitting across from him she gave her full attention as he began.


	3. Mission Over

Kirkwall, Free Marches. We have reports of supposed Blood magic use in the Circle and we’ve been deployed to search through and route out all signs. However, as I write these words in my personal journey, I can’t help but feel like I am missing something. Commander Meredith has said this mission is critical to the safety of the people as well as maintaining control over the mages. I noticed that since my promotion to Captain, I have been receiving a higher dose of lyrium. Many I have spoken to have thought it a normal thing with rank, but I am concerned. This does not seem right in my mind, but it is too late to complain. I unwittingly took many doses before I realized it was higher. There is no way of knowing yet what the outcome will be, but I am very concerned for my health. 

That is one of many issues I have been having lately. Kirkwall’s local hero Hawke has come to speak to me, in private and I am inclined to believe her. She see Meredith’s methods as cruel and torturous. Her proof was a set of documents collected from an older soldier, his ideas about using the rite of Tranquility to tame all mages. His idea was barbaric and when I spoke with the Commander, she seemed neither convinced it was good or bad. It left me questioning many things, in correlation with what Hawke told me further to that. 

We have this mission to search the barracks and while I disagree, I cannot come up with enough reason not to. It is my best hope that the fear mongering and anger she stokes within many is for not. I fear that soon, something terrible will come to pass and then we will be forced to chose. – Cullen Rutherford

“I remember the day well.” He stared into his mug as he spoke. “The morning was the same as it always was. People coming and going about the downtown core, nothing that would provoke the mind to believe anything else. By noon, the Circle’s First Enchanter had begun his usual complaints as we geared up to search the Circle. As he and Meredith battled with words, Hawke and her companions arrived as the row between the two grew louder. It was then, one of her followers came forward. He uttered words that slipped by me and then there was a loud bang that rippled through the air and knocked many down.” His hands began to shake as he spoke, gripping his mug in his hands he closed his eyes. “I can still smell the burning, and occasionally I wake to hear the screaming in my ears.”

“Take your time,” her hand settled over his and he felt stronger. “Once everyone got to their feet Meredith was in a rage. She declared the end of the Circle and wanted us to butcher them all. Over one man.” Gritting his teeth, he felt his stomach flutter up. “I couldn’t do it. That wasn’t what the Order was for. I stood alongside Hawke and her friends as we took Meredith down.” 

Silence filled the space as Lara continued to rub his hand, holding it between hers. “Taking her down didn’t scar me. I have no regret about stopping her madness. I regret I didn’t see it sooner, that I allowed myself to become consumed with hatred and foolish nonsense. I had other experiences, but… I’ve never been able to speak of them.” 

“They failed you.” Lara rose from her seat which caused him to open his eyes wide. Before he could react, her arms were around him and he found his head pressed against her ample bosom. “I’m so sorry.” She rubbed his back and held him tight, embraced in a warm hug. 

It shocked his system and for a second, he wasn’t entirely sure how to react. But it felt right, like something he’d been missing all those years. Wrapping his arms back around her, he felt the tears come. “Let it out,” she purred, carding her hand through his hair tenderly. 

Again, she began to hum a song, soft and low, the subtle vibrations of her chest soothing as he let the tears, he’d held so long fall. Each drop that trailed down his cheeks felt like a weight leaving him. It was his truth, his life and things he hadn’t been able to speak about. To anyone. After a few seconds he began to feel foolish, like he had made a mountain out of a small ant hill. Wiping at his dripping nose and wet cheeks he felt the sting of blush rise up his neck and paint his face. “I’m sorry. This…”

“This is normal.” Lara was kind as she gently let him back away but kept him within her arms. “You experienced a major trauma. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s part of being alive, this thing called emotions. And they don’t care what gender you are or age, and that’s a good thing. It means you aren’t as broken as you think you are. You can cry which means you will heal.” Sliding her sleeve over her fist she carefully wiped his cheeks. “And in my house, tears are a badge of honor. You survived and soon you will thrive.” It was a practiced speech but one that carried with it all the heart and truth that she held inside and in its own way it made the moment for him. 

When he felt himself regain control, he let his arms slip from about her waist and only then did she take a step back. “How do you feel?” She brushed a lock of his hair back from his eyes, still wearing her usual smile. Cullen felt weary, “I’m tired.”

“Perfect time for a nap.” Looping her arm in his she walked him back to his room. Turning down his bedding she went about fluffing his pillow before she drew the curtains closed. “I’ll come check up on you. I won’t let you sleep too long, I promise.” Without another word she dipped out of his room, shutting the door behind her. 

As he tugged his shirt off and got comfortable, he could hear her crying again. Unsure what to do he paused a moment, listening best he could. Only the soft sound of a door shutting answered him, followed by music playing low. Awake and alert now, he quietly tip toed across the hall into the bathroom where he cleaned up. Washing his face, he felt a bit better. Poking his head out of the doorway he looked about to see the house still. Walking into the kitchen he noticed she’d left the dishes from lunch in the sink. Silently as he could, he filled the sink and washed them. Afterwards he wiped down the countertops and wrung out the clothe before hanging it over the taps. Content with how it looked he felt the sleepiness crawl back over him. Returning to his room he was more than prepared to sleep. Closing the door, he stripped down to his boxers before crawling under the covers. 

Hearing her alarm go off Lara rose from her bed. Shuffling off to her small on suite bathroom she washed her face and tried to cool the puffiness of her eyes. Soon she felt more herself. Tugging on her pants and finding her bra she’d tossed across the room she looked herself over in the mirror. For thirty-one years of life she hadn’t felt like she had done enough. Cullen was one of nearing a hundred now, but he was the youngest and the most stable. His mind had yet to fall to the lyrium corruption that she’d seen before. She felt fat, and tired as she looked over herself. Her hair colour, a deep plum was starting to fade, and she hadn’t bothered to pick up another bottle to do it. Dark circles rung about her eyes and she new she was lacking some mineral or vitamin somewhere. Applying her day cream, she picked her glasses up and polished them off. It’d been sometime since she did anything for herself and with taking in Cullen, she’d have no time over the next month at the least. Drawing in a deep breath she combed her hair back and made her bed. 

Walking into the kitchen, off her bedroom, she gasped. Sitting in the dish strainer were all the lunch plates, clean and washed. “Cullen…” she sighed, placing her hand over her heart. After doing this for four years she hadn’t had a single one offer to aid back until they were well. Even then they helped by sending packages, replacing the items she used or sending money in the mail. After a time that stopped too. 

“I thought it was the least I could do.” Cullen startled her as he walked into the kitchen. “Sorry. I… well I laid down for a bit, but it seems I wasn’t that sleepy.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry that’s my fault. I should have offered….”

“Lara.” Cullen held a hand up. “You go out of your way to do all this and no one helps you. It… It isn’t right.” He crossed his arms tightly, “I won’t be a burden and if I am to get worse then please let me be of some use before I fall to being a feverish child.” 

Lara licked her lips and nodded, “then who am I to turn away such help?” Nodding she waved him over to the counter, “tea. I usually make a cup of chamomile tea. It helps with digestion and aids in keeping the stomach calm. Best before dinner and after I find.” She talked while she worked. “I make mine a bit strong, two bags instead of one in the pot and I let it steep for more than five minutes. I feel it works more effectively.” 

“Thank you,” Cullen smiled wide as he sat near her, watching as she worked, listening and asking questions as she began the process of afternoon tea. “I prefer to serve a light snack with afternoon tea but with your stage I like to make it a bit rich. Once you hit the harder times, you’ll need the extra calories.” Wincing as she mentioned it, she paused for a moment. “I’m making this all sound clinical again, aren’t I?”

“Yes. But I feel it’s how you deal with the situation. It must be incredibly hard to do this. Knowing some might not make it and others will never full appreciate you.” Cullen leaned over the counter, as Lara poured the water from the electric kettle into a teapot. “I’m afraid but I am ready.” Collecting two mugs from above her he felt the creeping horror rise over him. “But I am thankful to have you with me.” Handing her the mug, his fingers brushed hers and he felt a surge of warmth pass through him. It passed through her as well as she quickly tried to turn her attention to the making of a hearty soup. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” Cullen half stammered over his words, setting the mug next to the teapot. “No, no, I’m fine. Wait a few more minutes then pour the tea.” 

Together they danced about the kitchen, she prepped and mixed away at the pot while he set out the milk and sugar, while he asked question and filled the mugs. Soon she was laughing and telling him stories. Fond memories of her brother and her, dancing about in the kitchen as they made breakfast for Mother’s Day or Father’s Day. Always knowing exactly where the other one was. Cullen marveled at the smile upon her lips. It was different then the one she usually wore, and her eyes danced when she spoke of her brother, “Kaleb.” 

Settling down to their soup Lara sighed, “I have to go out shopping tomorrow. Running low on some items. Did you…”

“I’d like to come along.” He said, spooning up some of the soup. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to check my post box. I haven’t in a couple days and I should.” Hearing her breathe a sigh of relief he continued his meal. He’d learned a great deal about her, even if she didn’t say much. Helping her with the dishes when they were done, he noticed it for the first time. A faint twitch in his hand, which nearly caused him to dump the two bowls he was carrying. Luckily for him his reflexes were still sharp enough that he managed to catch himself. Peering up at her he noticed she hadn’t seen the event. Swallowing he wonder how much longer he’d be useful before he fell into the horrors of full withdrawal. 

Placing the bowls in the sink he caught the calendar on the fridge. It was littered with her writing. Appointments for this, when to pick up that, her next shipment of cannabis, it was her life in motion, but it was also a time point. It was November twenty-third and soon they’d be into December; Christmas. Which reminded him of the last day he took it. September eighth. He’d managed to keep the symptoms at bay for nearly two months now and now he was beginning to feel the effects creeping and clawing forward. 

Before Lara his diet had been spotty at best. He had nothing when he came back. No home to go to, no roof, only the clothes on his back and in his duffle bag. Bouncing about from rehab to the hospital and other veteran run programs he was down to his last hope when he walked into the doctor’s office that day. He couldn’t find a place to rent, nor the money for first and last. Each phone call to his affairs officer had him slipping further and further into depression. Being diagnosed with that and PTSD they had begun the paperwork for disability assistance until he could get the therapy he needed. If he was right, he should have news back by now in his postal box. “We could go now if you are up to it. I feel well enough to stretch my legs.” 

“OH! I… It is nice enough. The weather said we’re expecting a snow storm tomorrow.” Brushing her shirt off she stopped. “Give me fifteen minutes to clean up. I… I’m just across the kitchen if you need me.” Ushering herself out of the room she made a bee line for her usual shopping clothes. A pair of plain dark blue jeans and an oversized plum cable knit sweater. Brushing her hair down, she used a face wipe and quickly washed her face before applying her lotion and then her makeup. Checking herself over in the mirror she felt pretty. 

Cullen paced back and forth in the living room. The clothes were not his own, but they were no different then what he’d wear going out anyways. Dark khakis with a white t-shirt underneath a button up black and white plaid flannel shirt. He found some hair gel in the bathroom and used it to smooth out his wavy locks and was content. When he’d woke that morning he’d found an electric shaver upon the counter and was glad for it. Removing the stubble and scruff from his face he felt better instantly. ‘Some day you’ll be able to use a straight razor again.’ He thought to himself as he passed his hand over his jaw.

“I’m ready.” She went instantly to the front hall closet and retrieved her violet jacket. “I have several jackets in here if you want something nice. Go ahead.” Waving him over she was busy collecting her purse and digging through it to pay him any further attention. Cullen easily laced up his boots and opened the closet. She was right, there were two jackets that looked like hers the rest were different sizes and shapes. Selecting a leather jacket that looked to be his size he tugged it on. “I’m ready to go.”

“Perfect,” she said as she missed the handle for the front door. Looking over her shoulder she caught her mistake and corrected it. “Let’s get going. Should be quiet with the time.”

Locking the door behind them she unlocked the car and got into the driver’s seat, “we can hit your post box. Is it at the VA?”

“Yes.” Cullen felt the beginning of a headache stirring between his eyes. Checking her out of the corner of his eye he caught that same smile she had in the kitchen. Not wanting to upset her he settled into his seat and tried to will it away. Driving through the city streets the radio played low, on the local station. As she drove towards the veteran’s office, he pulled the set of keys he had in his wallet. “I’ll be about ten minutes not even, unless you want to come in.” He looked over to her, seeing a flush colour her cheeks. “I would like you there, but only if you want to.” 

“Cullen, I’m here for you.” Wringing the steering wheel, she let out a long sigh, “but I can’t come in. I’m… I’m not welcome there. I’m so sorry. I… I should have told you sooner.” 

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry I… I’ll just be a moment alright.” Cullen didn’t want to upset her further and his headache was slowly getting worse. Unclipping his seatbelt, he quickly exited the car and rushed into the building. Making his way straight to the row of mailboxes he took a deep breath and offered up a quick prayer before opening it. Inside sat a couple envelops. Stashing them quickly into his interior breast pocket he was too nervous to look at them. Spinning he went to leave when he bumped into Raleigh Samson. “Hey Cullen. How’s it going?” Raleigh offered a smile as he extended his hand. “I’m alive. You?”

“I’m working on it. I got excepted back in, on a conditional term but I’m where I want to be.” Samson was beaming wide as he spoke. “They told me you walked. Wh...”

“Personal reasons.” Cullen sighed as he glanced past Samson to look out the looming bay window. Lara was outside her car, puffing away on a cigarette. Samson quickly followed his line of vision and started to laugh. “You seeing her? That quack.”

“Quack?” Cullen felt his heckles rise at the demeaning tone in Samson’s voice. “Hey, she used to come around here. Promising to help those wanting to quit. Promising all kinds of crazy stuff. They had to drag her out once, threatened to call the cops too. Something about stealing vets money.” Shrugging Samson rolled his neck. “Ain’t none of my business where you bury your beef, but a guy like you could do better.”

“Shut up.” Cullen snarled. “You know nothing about her.” Growling Cullen shook his head, “you aren’t worth it.” Slamming his shoulder into Samson’s he walked straight out the front door, Samson chackling behind him. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he could feel the throb between his eyes worsen. “Let’s go.” He grunted as he opened the car door and threw himself into the passenger seat.


	4. Beginning to Go Down

Cullen sat and stewed in his frustration while they shopped, being quiet as she loaded her cart up and went about her usual circuit of the grocery store. By the time they arrived at the check outs he had simmered down. “Could we make one more stop? I promise it will be quick.” His voice was low as he combatted the ever-growing headache that was now beginning to encase his head. “Of course. Just let me know when we get everything into the car.” Again, she wore that manufactured smile. Taking out her wallet from the inside pocket of her jacket she handed her points card over then waited for her total. “That’ll be two-hundred thirty-four dollars and seventeen cents.”

“Mastercard, please.” 

Cullen could see the slight tremor in her hand. Small things. His training was always based on noticing the small signs. Trying to ferret out blood magic and liars. People who were afraid trembled, like her hands were now. “Here’s your receipt ma’am, have a good day.”

Lara folded it over four times in a neat little bundle before stuffing it into her pocket. Bagging her groceries herself she loaded them into the cart, her head down as she worked. Pushing the cart into the parking lot she sighed heavily as she dug for her keys. Opening the trunk, she began loading everything in. “Are you alright?” Cullen handed her a bag of potatoes from the bottom of the cart. “Yeah, fine. Totally fine. Where did we need to go next?” There was a waver in her voice he hadn’t heard before and her face was red. “It’s not far from here. I’ll give you the address once we get in the car.”

Shortly into the loading Lara waved him off, “you look pale. Are you feeling well?”

“Headache, nothing more.” He tried to force the smile to his lips as he nearly dropped the bag with the bread and eggs in it. 

“Stop. Get in the car. Ok?” Lara took the bag from his hands and placed it amongst the others. “Please?”

Without arguing he nodded and got in the front seat. Leaning his head against the rest he let out a long breath of air, his head felt like it was about to explode. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to alleviate the pain. “Cullen,” Lara’s voice was soft, “I have something in my bag. One moment.” He could hear her digging about before he finally cracked an eye to see what she was doing. She was pulling a small vial out with an eyedropper. “What is that?”

“CBD oil. It will help with all of your pain and discomfort without the high feeling of the hookah. You only need a drop or two under your tongue. Trust me?” There was a weariness in her eyes and he mouthed yes, the pain getting more intense. “Alright, open your mouth and stick your tongue to the roof. Let it slowly disperse and swallow. I’ve used this before, it’s very good.” Watching him, she waited. Carefully she dropped two under his tongue. “All done.”

Cullen waited as she instructed before slowly swallowing, it had no taste as it slipped down his throat. Within a few minutes he could feel his headache lifting. “Go to this address.” Mumbling with his eyes closed he felt her reach across him and pull his seat belt into the clasp. “I could have…”

“Relax. It will take a bit before it fully kicks in. I’m here to help.” Turning the car on she began the short drive across town to the address Cullen listed. Smiling as she pulled into the driveway she waved as a tall man came bounding out the door. “Rylen!” She rushed to shut the car off and jump out to hug the man. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

“And you lass,” Rylen chuckled as he peered into the front seat seeing Cullen rubbing his temples. “He’s in good hands.”

“You are too kind.” Lara blushed as she looked over to see Cullen slowly getting out of the car. “He had a headache. I’ve given him some CBD oil. He has some things here he needs to collect?”

“Ya. Arse left his duffle and his cell. Silly sot. Oi, Cullen!” Rylen lowered his voice as he hugged Cullen. “You look a bit worse for the wear, but you sure got lucky with her.”

“I did?” Cullen raised his eyebrows looking between the two. “How do you know her?”

“I’ve had a couple men under me use her help. Was curious about the whole thing so she walked me through it. Been fighting to get her acknowledged and the damn funding she needs.”

“Rylen!” Lara’s face was red at the mentioning of funding. “I’ll be fine.”

“Christmas is just around the corner. I know you haven’t got a soul, but damnit you don’t need to lose what you have.” Rylen shook his head and dug into his pocket. Pulling out a few bills he took her hand and placed them inside. “It ain’t much but I have more coming. We’ve taken up a collection at the barracks. And if things continue as they do, I may be using you help too.”

“I’m open you when you decide to and bless you for this.” With tears prickling her eyes she carefully placed the money into her purse, not bothering to count it. “I need to get him back. He doesn’t have much longer in the fun stages.”

“Right. I’ll grab it. Cullen, I’ll swing by to visit you in a day or two. Have some work that needs doing first. Take it easy on Lara here and you listen to everything she says.”

“Is that an order?” Cullen smiled as he shook Rylen’s hand one last time. “I look forward to seeing you in better times.”

Rylen nodded sharply before rushing back into the house. Lara drew in a few deep breathes as she waved at her eyes. “Do you…”

“I’m fine, really, thank you Cullen.” She barely croaked the words out as she dabbed at her eyes with her thumbs. “Rylen will be back in a moment, we can put your duffle in the back seat.” Turning from him she went to open the back door. Rylen was quick enough, which Cullen expected. He was a neat man, kept all of his belongings in his duffle bag and washed his clothes nearly nightly. It was his routine, what made life bare able. With his bag in the back he slid into the front seat, resting his head back he closed his eyes and allowed the sensation to creep over him.

“He’s been through a lot.” Rylen sighed as he got in close to Lara. “Seen a lot. Kirkwall wasn’t the first mess, just the latest. He’s going to need you. Think you can manage?”

“He’s different than the others.” Lara was still red in the face as she spoke. “He… He’s special. I woke up yesterday and he’d done the dishes for me. No one has ever done that. Not in four years Rylen. No one. I… He’s cute too.” Tucking her hair behind her ear she laughed. “But I’m no fool. I’m fat, and miserable and boring. He’ll be like all the others. Get well, leave and forget.”

“Lass you cut yourself too deep. You’re beautiful in my books,” wrapping his arms around her, he offered one final squeeze. “Just take it day by day. You’ve got a lot on your plate. Don’t forget to ask for help yourself now. I’m here if you need me.” Winking he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “Chin up, you’re tougher than you think and more beautiful than you know. I’ve seen many women, and you top them all.”

“You’re too much, you know, that right?” Lara laughed as she huffed. “I’ll text you and let you know how he does. Visits would do him well, I think. But I have food in the truck. Tea another time?”

“I’ll buy. Two milk half sugar, right?” Rylen watched her nod before he waved. “Breathe. Help is on the way.” 

Lara waved back and jumped in the front seat. “Home we go.” Smiling she put the car in reverse and headed back to her house. Back to the nightmare of piling up credit card debt and the small pension her brother brought in. ‘Christmas soon.’ She thought about it. Tomorrow she’d put up the decorations, maybe that would help brighten her spirits. With her eyes locked on the road she caught the first few flakes of snow as they began to flutter down to the ground. 

Cullen felt his body hum, as if he could feel each rush of blood with the beating of his heart. It wasn’t painful, just mildly amusing to him. Smiling he felt the cars every turn, enjoying the heightened sensation with it’s dulling effect. When they pulled into the parking lot, he was thankful for her help. “I can…”

“Here’s the keys, could you unlock the door, please?” Turning the car off she passed him the keys her voice still shaking as she tried to keep her emotions in check. “Sure.” Cullen nodded as he opened his door and half ran to the front door. It took him a couple tries, his hands still shook slightly but he managed to prop it open. Looking over his shoulder he caught her loading her arms full, trying her best to leave nothing in the truck. He took off in a flash, “hey!” Grabbing some of the heavier bags he growled, “you don’t need to hurt yourself. Please, let me help!” 

“I… Thank you.” She was stunned as he marched the bags up the steps and into the house. Putting her head down she took the few remaining bags and followed behind him. Looking up she saw him take his boots off neatly and grab the mop from the hall closet. “Cull…”

“No. You need the help and I shall do as much as I can, while I still can.” He mopped up the wet snow that dripped from his boots all the way from the front entrance to the kitchen. “I can wash it proper after we tend to the bags.” Leaning the mop against the door he excused himself to go retrieve his duffle from the rear seat. “I’ll be back to help you in a moment.” 

Lara was stunned. Never in the four years of doing this had she ever had a patient help. Let alone demand that he be useful. Blinking she barely uttered the thank you before he disappeared out the door. Taking her boots off she brought the last of the bags to the kitchen counter, where the others were neatly stacked in a row. Hanging her jacket, she began unpacking bag after bag, peeking over only when the front door shut. Cullen brushed the falling snow from his hair as he carefully untied his boots and set them on the drying mat. Taking his bag, he placed it on the chair in his room before heading into the kitchen. “I can…”

“I’ve got this. Are you getting hungry? It’s later in the afternoon than I thought. I can start dinner.” With the cupboards open she was busy shuffling things away as she spoke. “I’m thinking something hearty and comforting. My mother used to make a ground beef shepherds pie. It’s got a thick gravy base that I loved. It takes a bit of effort and patience but it’s worth it.” 

“What can I do to help?” Cullen washed his hands in the sink and then rolled his sleeves up. “My mother used to make something similar, I think. With a mashed potato top right?”

“Yes!” Lara nodded as she pulled the bag of potatoes up and placed it on the counter. “About six large potatoes will do.” 

Together they knocked out the prep work in not time. As the potatoes bubbled away on the stove and the meat sat in the gravy stewing, she started a kettle to make tea. “How do you feel?”

“I think it’s starting to wear off because I feel strange.” Slipping into the chair across from her he held his head in his hands, elbows upon the counter top. “It’s not a pain per-say more like a pressure building in my head. I am not enjoying it.” 

“I see.” Lara hummed as she tapped her chin. “May I?” Coming around behind him, she waited for the soft nod of his head before she carefully began to run her fingers through his hair, massaging the scalp and focusing on several pressure zones. “If this hurts…”

“Mmm no.” He groaned as he leaned back into her, his head resting against her breasts. “That is incredible.” Being pressed against her he caught the moment she made a grunt in her chest. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re super sensitive. It means you’re going to be in full withdrawal soon. Sooner than I had anticipated.” Rubbing at his temples she continued. “Tonight, we’ll make sure you get sleep. You’ll need it.” 

Continuing in silence she rubbed until her finger tips were numb and the timer beeped on the stove. Patting his shoulder, she instantly went about finishing the bit of prep work to turn the boiled potatoes into a perfectly whipped mash. Again, she hummed away, the same tune and Cullen had to ask. “What is that song? I think I’ve heard it before, but I can’t remember.” 

“It’s an old child’s tune, my mother gave me a jewelry box as a little girl and that song used to play when you wound up the key. To be honest, I don’t recall the name of it. Some classical music I think.” Pulling out a clay dish she spooned the meat mixture in before carefully spreading the whipped potato over top. “Just need to throw it in the oven for half an hour and we’re ready to eat.” 

Cullen relaxed as Lara went about getting him a cup tea. More chamomile before dinner. Sipping at it he sighed. It was close to Christmas and he was more than aware of the fact that his sisters and brother would be worried about him. Remembering his duffle held his cellphone and the letters in his jacket he quietly rose. “Excuse me.” He went to his jacket first, collecting the letters before he went for his duffle bag. Pulling his cell from its usual location in the side pocket he powered it on. Sitting on the edge of the bed he waited as it loaded up. A mass of emails and messages flooded the main screen. Sighing heavily, he went through his emails first. Mostly junk mail with only a couple important ones.

Reading an email from his sister he sent off a hurried reply, letting her know his cell was on charge and he’d forgotten about it. That he was safe and comfortable. Finishing with that he would call her when he had a chance later in the week. Hitting send he tossed his phone away onto the nightstand. He wasn’t one for phones or messaging people, but his sister had insisted and as long as she was paying for it, he used it.

With the letters in his hand he couldn’t bare to look himself. Going into the kitchen he found Lara sitting by herself, mindlessly stirring her tea. “Lara, can I ask you a favor? I… I can’t bring myself to read these. Could you?”

“Of course,” she held her hand out and tore open the first one. “It says, you have been approved for your pension. You’ll be receiving a cheque retroactively for the amount owed to you. Congratulations.” Lara chuckled as she handed it back. “Is that all?”

“I have two more, but I think I know what they are now.” Smiling Cullen paused. “Would it be possible to go to the bank tomorrow? If I’m able.”

“Of course,” she chuckled as he quickly rushed down the hall and into his room. Exhaling long and low Lara pulled her cellphone from her pocket. Opening her banking apps, she sighed. Every penny was in transition to her credit card, which was already on the edge of being overdrawn. It would take at least another day or two for it to clear and she was nervous about the uncertainty. “You might be my last one…” she buried her face in her hands as she tried to catch her breath.


	5. Spiral

Dinner was quiet as Lara was mentally somewhere else as was Cullen. He was concerned about his family, and how little they knew. When he left the templars he’d only sent them a letter saying he was looking into other avenues outside of the Order. Other than that, he sent the occasional, “I’m doing fine.” 

Lara was busy doing mental math, trying to add and subtract the costs of running her makeshift clinic verses the bills coming in. It wasn’t enough, and the donations were getting fewer and fewer. With Christmas around the corner there was a guarantee that those donations would dry up. No one had extra money at the holidays. 

After finishing her plate, she rose and began to tidy up, putting the left overs in the fridge and washing the few dishes. Setting the kettle to boil she dumped out the teapot and gave it a quick wash. Cullen took his plate to the sink and began to scrub the few dishes. “Lara, you look a little out of it. Are you alright?” 

Stunned she nearly dropped the pot. “I… I’m alright, thank you.” Pulling a tray of tea boxes down she carefully selected an herbal tea before putting it back in the cupboard. “How do you feel?”

“For now? Fine.” He lied as the sweat was beginning to slick his back and his head was swimming. “Tea smells good.” 

“It’s an aged earl grey. One of my father’s favorite. I don’t make it enough, but I think you’ll enjoy it.” Smiling she carefully tied off the bag to the handle of the teapot. “If you would like some dessert, I have a box of cookies.”

“No…I uh, no thank you.” Feeling everything around him swim he pressed his palms into the countertop and drew in a few slow breathes. Instantly Lara reacted. Taking his arm, she pulled him over to the fridge and opened the upper freeze door. “Take a few icy breaths it will help.” Her voice was calming as she helped hold him up. “You should sit down, I’ll get you some water.”

“I’m fine… I can…” Cullen staggered back catching his hip on the edge of the counter. Hissing between his clenched teeth he sighed. “Sitting might be good.” Staggering a few more steps he made it to the living room where he collapsed onto the couch. “I… feel strange.”

“It’s a mix of the CBD oil and the withdrawal,” Lara rushed from the kitchen a clothe in her hand. Kneeling beside him she checked his forehead against her wrist. “Damnit…” Blotting away at his temples with the rag she sighed, “I’m so sorry. I pushed you too hard today. This is all my fault.” Helping him up she shook her head, “I’m so sorry.”

“No…” feeling the room move around him Cullen groaned. “I didn’t tell you everything. I didn’t want to ruin your trip out. I… I had a headache before we left. I guess that was the start of it.” Flashing her a weak smile he followed her as she led him down the hall to the room opposite the one, he’d been staying in. “I guess I get the upgrade now.” 

“It’s better equipped to handle what comes next.” Pushing the door wide she walked him over to the double bed closest to the wall. “Take a seat, we’ll start figuring it all out in a moment here. I need you to be honest with me.” Turning her back to him she collected the clipboard hanging off the edge of the foot board. “I need to know everything. When you started taking it, how long, how much and when you stopped. Then I need to know your symptoms. All of them. Today particularly.” She had a deep scowl on her face as she waited patiently for him to go over everything. 

“I started when I finished my training course, just a few days after my eighteenth birthday. I was taking the usual doses for about a year, maybe two. Then I was transferred to Kirkwall. I… Things weren’t right, and I didn’t…”

“I don’t blame you.” She rested her hand on his knee, rubbing with her thumb gently. “What they chose to feed you and how much is on them. You were following a superior’s orders. Nothing more.” Motioning for him to continue Cullen drew in a deep breath. “Alright. I took nearly a double dose, daily for eight years. Then, I had to go on a restricted dose for another year. I left the templars and took my last dose from them six months ago. I… I took one finale dose six days ago.” Hanging his head, he felt the heat curling up his back and cling to his neck. “Currently, I am feeling dizzy, the room feels like it is moving without me. I… I am very warm.” Tugging at the collar of his shirt he tried to flap the material to break some of the warmth. “That’s it for now. Earlier I had a headache that started between my eyes and then continued through the base of my skull.” 

Finishing writing, she sighed, “tonight you will experience possible nightmares, and you’ll flux between hot and cold. I’ve got blankets for both.” Rising she stowed the chart back where she took it from. “Take off your shirt. I have a few things to bring for you. How is your stomach?”

“Slightly queasy.” He groaned as he reached for the hem of his shirt. “I wouldn’t mind a cup of your tea.”

“Exactly what I had in mind.” Patting him on the shoulder she hastened from the room, leaving him to remove his shirt and get comfortable. Looking about himself, he took in his surroundings. Everything about the room screamed ‘hospital’ to him. From the boring white tile floors to the eighty’s style curtains running along the window. Across from him was a small eleven-inch television on an extender arm, same aged feeling as the curtains. Easing back on the bed he was aware of the arm chair and ottoman in the corner. It was well worn, patched in several places and unlike the rest of the room it looked cozy. Settling himself upon the bed he looked down at his hands. Every fingertip was cold and tingling as his hands began to slightly shake. 

“I brought you some tea, and more of the lotion I used earlier for you back. I think it would be best to apply…” pausing she caught the faint hint of concern in his eyes, the fear that she knew all too well. “I’ll be here with you the whole time, I promise.” Sitting next to him on the bed she carefully moved the mug into his hands, instantly her fingers brushed against his and she caught the coolness of his skin. “Oh hun.” Wrapping her hands around his she sighed out, long and heavy. “I think tonight might be your last night of rest… Maker, I wish I could make this all go away.”

“It’s…. It is what it is.” Cullen tried to force a smile to his lips, knowing full well what was to come over the span of the next week if not longer could possibly kill him. Taking a sip from the mug he instantly felt better. “I trust you, strange as that may sound, I believe in you.”

“Thank you,” she smiled as she rolled the same small bottle from earlier between her palms. “I just want to warm it a bit. You are cold enough and I know you’ll need to sleep soon. Let me know when you feel tired. Or if you are thirsty.”

“Thirsty?” Cullen paused for a moment before looking back into his mug. “I… what does that mean?” 

As she worked a bit of the lotion in her palms, she motioned him to turn, “first it’s cold and numbness of the fingers and toes, then it spreads to thirst. Just a dying thirst that you cannot sate. After that… it goes down hill fast.” Beginning at his shoulders she started to slowly rub at first, just applying the oily solution over his skin. Allowing her fingers to grace over his shoulders she closed her eyes, focusing on the taut muscles that strung like cords through his back. Following his spine down she was careful not to apply too much pressure, gauging by his grunts and breathing she continued to work until she was certain the oil was absorbed correctly. “What is that?” Cullen paused feeling a slight rush up to his head.

“This is a cannabis oil. Specially designed for massage. It numbs the skin a bit and when it seeps into the pores it can ease pain and discomfort. Some of my patients claim it calmed the nerves firing in their back. I figured it worked already once, this might be a good time to try it again.” Sealing the cap back on the bottle she rose. “Let me put this away and…”

“I’m going to be a delirious mess…” the words rushed out of him in a wave. He was afraid as his toes began to go numb and the tea barely warmed his chilly hands. With the premise of what he was about to endure glaring him down, he was struggling to maintain his calm. “Could you…”

“It’s not that late. I was hoping to do a bit of reading. Maybe if you’ll be kind to me, I can read to you?” Again, her tender nature and sweet smile helped put him at ease. Unable to answer in words he gave a short bob of his head and watched her as she placed the bottle up in a cupboard. After she dipped out of the room, the sound of water running the only other sound in the house. Soon enough she’d returned a thick book in her hands as she cozied herself into the armchair. “I hope you don’t mind. I was getting ready to re-read Sherlock Holmes. It’s been too long, and I enjoy the dynamics between the amateur detective and his best friend.”

“I enjoy a good detective novel. I haven’t had much time to read his entire collection, but I did finish Hounds of the Baskervilles.” Cullen stated as he wiggled himself down into the bed, feeling a sense of dizziness creep over him. Closing his eyes to help steady himself he focused on her words. Listening as she began to read, how she changed her inflection to match Holmes, giving Watson a more pompous tone. He chuckled as she read with an enthusiasm that made him long to hear more. After a couple pages he drifted into sleep. 

Lara caught the moment his rested eyes turned to peaceful slumber. Placing a book mark into the center of the page she set the book down on the table beside her. Rising she went about cleaning up the kitchen mess, tucking away the washed dishes and then locking up. 

Finished with her nightly chores she went back to find him wide eyed and breathing heavy at the end of the bed, fingers gripping the edge of the blankets till they were white. “Cullen…” she knew well enough the throws of withdrawal, the slip into painful memories. There wasn’t a single man or woman that come to her that didn’t go through them. Painful, real and traumatic. Whatever the Chantry put these people through, it was scarring to a deeper level. Taking a tentative step forward she saw his eyes go wild. “Blood… so much blood.” His hands were clasped together in prayer as they shook. Easing herself down beside him she placed her hands over his. “I’m here Cullen. It’s Lara, you are sitting in a room, safe and whole.” 

Taking in a shaking breath Cullen blinked several times, trying to clear the cobwebs of fear and nightmares. “La…Lara.” Closing them again he focused on the warmth of her hands. They were real, grounding and something that anchored him away from his horrors. “I… I need to…”

“You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. I promise.” Stroking her thumb over his knuckles she snuggled in close to him. Pressing her body against his side, using it to bring the world back to him. “Take your time. I am right here.” 

He badly wanted to control the shaking, the tremors that forced his whole body to tremble and quiver against his will. Heat swirled through him while his fingers and toes froze. “I… I need to tell you. I need to say it.” Again, he struggled to swallow, his mouth like dry cotton balls. Tightening his grip upon his own hands he closed his eyes and tried again. “I… I was at Kinloch…”

“Maker! You were at Kinloch!!” Lara half jumped up off the bed. “You… you must have known him. You had to have!” Instantly she was flushed red, trying in vain to calm her racing heart. “My brother. Kaleb Selke. You must have…” 

“Kaleb? Maker… yes I knew Kaleb.” 

“He never talked about Kinloch. He… He made it to the Commander’s side before everything fell. He… please, tell me everything.” Settling back down beside him she began to rub small circle between his shoulders. She felt him settle and listened in closely as he began his tale.


	6. Kinloch Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Possible Trigger warnings for discussion of trauma and PTSD symptoms. More withdrawal as well.

It was days before the Blight struck when Uldred sprung his trap. That day will forever be etched in my memory and scar my very soul. It was supposed to be the same as every other day. No Harrowing planned. Just the usual classes for the apprentices amidst the meeting of the Enchanters. But it wasn’t usual. Anything from it. 

We were sitting in the library below the Harrowing Chamber, where they were holding their meeting when it happened. At first it was shouting, someone screaming loudly in pain and then it erupted. Several of the students in the room drew blades and began working blood magic. I was… I had only just taken my first draught. Been through the last of my training not but six months before. This wasn’t something I could have ever imagined let alone believed was possible.

Two senior templars rushed in while a third headed towards the Commander. It was chaos. I and three others young templars were paralysed by fear and what we were seeing. Demons, spells of great power and innocent mages being cut down along with my brothers and sisters. I drew my blade when my senses returned and did my best to aid. I… I had never killed. Never drawn my blade on another before. When the edge of my blade ripped through a blood mage, I nearly threw up my stomach. It… it was a sensation I will never forget and for a moment I lost sense. Lost the battle about me. Somewhere in that mess I was rendered unconscious.

I woke, some time later in a cell made steel and bone. Six of my brothers and sisters were stuck with me. All in different states of pain and injury. Myself, I was luck to have only suffered a mild head trauma. We talked amongst ourselves, trying to figure out where we were and how best to get out. Marcus tried the cell walls to find they were enchanted. Janna used some of her power to deaden the magic. That was a mistake. Instantly we were attacked by shades. With no swords or weapons, we were forced to fight back as best we could. Tarik fell before us.

As his blood leeched from him the shades disappeared. Soon after two mages appeared, wicked grins upon their faces, flanked by two grotesque abominations. With a wave of their hands they reanimated Tarik, some demon possessing his body. As he rose his body twisted and cracked, bones snapping and tendons tearing. It is a sound I will never forget. When he was fully upright a blood mage opened the cage to let him out. “You’ll be leaving like this soon, dogs.” She barked at us as they tossed a couple skins of water into the cage. “How does it feel to be the one in the cage, monster.” Another barked out as they spat at Janna. 

Again, I was frozen. Anger boiled under my skin, but I couldn’t move. There was nothing I could do. While I had been trained to handle such situations, I was but a boy, my first taste of true evil and I was powerless. There was no senior among us, and you could tell they were as frightened as I. We huddled together, tried our best to ration the little we were given but soon lyrium thirst began to ache through us all. 

Jacob fell to the lyrium delusions. He thought Janna was his sister Anne-Marie and constantly asking for her forgiveness. He was barely a moment gone when they came for his corpse. I was aware of time’s passage in the beginning but at some point, I lost all rational sense. They tormented us, used blood magic to try to seed demons in the willing, break the unwilling. I could hear them torturing mages and templars alike. Their screams still echo through my mind.

At some point, perhaps a week later, I am not sure, there was a rescue. I was delirious from hunger, thirst and lyrium withdrawal. I was but a young initiate and while I had not taken lyrium long, it was long enough to affect me. I’m told I uttered slurred insults and threats to the party who breached the Harrowing Chamber to attempt to save the remaining unaffected mages. I lost consciousness as they came out, the field of magic I was imprisoned behind had fell with the death of Uldred. He was behind all the depravities and I was told he put up quite the fight. 

Some days later I woke in the infirmary. They informed me I had been in dire state when I came in. For nearly a month I stayed in that bed, only leaving for short walks around the gardens. I found myself shaking at the thought of spending any time within a small room with little light or lack of windows. The resident doctor told me a change of scenery would suit me well and aid in my recovery. Another couple weeks went by and I was in Kirkwall. From there you know the fate of the Chantry. 

Lara sat there beside his bed, listening to his words as the sweat beaded up about his brow. Dabbing at it from time to time she cooed and ran her hand through his hair until he slipped into sleep. Once he had she rose and went about the few things left for her to tend to. Being sure there was water with ice chips, cutting up some fruit she bought before catching the time. Poking her head back into the room she could see him struggle in his sleep. Feeling a tug, she quickly ushered herself into the room. Running her hands through his hair she saw the crease of his brow smooth out. Tactile touch seemed to aid in soothing his symptoms. Biting her lip, she checked the response again, backing off just a touch. Sure, enough as soon as her hand left his body he seemed to fall again to the shadows of his mind. 

Letting a weak sigh pass her lips she looked down. She’d been wearing yoga pants and a plain t-shirt under her cardigan sweater. Taking the sweater off she folded it neatly and placed it on the chair she’d sat on to read to him. Pulling her glass off she folded them and set them on the tray beside her. Reaching under her shirt she undid her bra and pulled it off without removing her t-shirt. Setting her slippers by the end of the bed she shut the light off and crawled in beside him. 

Lara was always a light sleeper, from as long as she could remember the slightest bit of movement or sound would bring her instantly awake. Despite his fever and prior thrashings, he was still. So much so she’d slept in one position and that was what woke her. The discomfort of her body laying upon one side. Waking she checked him before rolling away from him and falling back into her usual light sleep. Feeling a weight over her waist and a heat pressed against her back she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Trying her best not to move she realize it was Cullen, snuggling her to him. Making a slow move to leave caused him to grumble and pull her tightly against himself; held tight like a teddy bear. 

Trapped against his warmth she bit her bottom lip. This had never happened before. Sure, she’d crawled into bed with many of her patients, keeping them company and helping through the worst of their pains but none had ever snuggled her. At least not as intently as Cullen, nor with the effect he was having over her. Her heart fluttered at the contact, his bare arm over the blanket, locking the heat in. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, ‘don’t be a fool girl. He’ll leave just like the rest.’ Repeating it over in her mind she felt her heart sink. He was asleep, there was no way he knew who he was holding let alone that he was holding someone at all.

He mumbled something as he buried his face in her hair, a jumble of muffled words against the shell of his ear before he yawned and pushed back. Holding her breath, she waited for the moment he released her and rolled over to get out of bed. Collecting her sweater, bra and glasses she raced down the hall to her bedroom. Shutting the door, she tried to still the drumming of her heart. She needed to get dressed and ready for the day. He’d be fully awake soon and she’d need to tend to him. 

Cullen felt the rumble of his stomach followed nearly instantly by a wave of nausea. Lifting himself up into a sit he clenched his eyes tightly. Vainly he’d hoped that would have been enough to quell some of the sensation plaguing his body but instead it seemed to heighten his sensitivity and the rolling of his guts. Trying to stand his legs wobbled and he immediately tumbled back down to the bed. “Cullen?” Lara yelled as she came rushing to him. “Gods, are you alright?” Her cheeks were flushed red as she scrambled to his side. “I’m…. I don’t…” the world was spinning about him as she calmly righted him up. “Slow, deep breathes. Lean on me.” Helping him to stand she walked him the short distance to the washroom. Turning on the taps she grabbed a face clothe and soaked it into the warm water. “Sit on the edge of the tub. If you feel sick, there’s the toilet.” Wiping his face down she rubbed the back of his neck with the clothe. “How do you feel?”

“Ill.” He groaned as his face went pail. Seeing the shift in his colouring she opened the toilet lid and held her breath. Bracing his hands against the bowl he dropped to his knees, “I’m right here.” Rubbing circles between his shoulders she turned her head. He was quiet as he wretched, only the spasming of his back signalled his struggle. Soon he groaned, dry heaving a couple more times she could feel the heat rise off him, rolling in sheets. “Up, before you pass out in the bowl.” Assisting him to his feet she turned the sink on and filled a small paper cup with water. Unscrewing the bottle of mouth wash she mixed in half a cap full. “Swish and spit. The peppermint will help your stomach.”

Again, she stayed by his side until he was done. Wrapping his arm over her shoulder she guided him back to bed. “I’ll bring you…”

“Stay with me.” There was a desperation in his voice and his eyes plead with her. “Ok.” Sinking into the mattress beside him she wrapped her arm around his waist. “It’s going to…”

“I… I’m going to die.”


	7. In Sickness

Lara choked up, “no, Gods no Cullen.” Pulling him down into her chest she felt him shatter in her arms. As his tears fell, she rubbed his back, trying her best to soothe and comfort him. There wasn’t much she could tell him, after all with the amount of lyrium he’d taken it was completely unknown. She’d been used to dealing with templars in their waning years, fifties and sixties. People whose bodies had been wracked by battle and lyrium for long periods. Cullen had admitted he was in his early thirties and had only begun taking it at eighteen. That was sixteen years, not the usual thirty or forty years of daily consumption. Worse yet his prior Commander was feeding him double the dosage for nearly ten years. Working the math in her head she had no idea what the impact would be upon him, other than he had one advantage; youth. His body would have a better chance to heal than someone in their later years. How much that played into things, it was impossible to say. 

His sobs slowly calmed and was replaced with a heaviness as his breathing drew in more rhythmically. Easing him back down to the bed she sighed. Lyrium withdrawal always drained the energy from them and every time it was the same. Pulling the blanket up over him she brushed his hair back out of his eyes before heading into the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled loudly as she opened the fridge, but she didn’t feel it. Depression was a two-way street. While she helped others, she too suffered and today was going to be a hard day. Picking up her phone she checked over her messages. One, from Rylen. “Hey, hope everything is alright. I’m off the next couple days, might swing in if you’re up for it. Message me back.”

It was what she needed, and she knew it. Typing him back she tried to stifle the flow of tears. “Please… Cullen’s not doing well and…. I could use the company.” No sooner had the text been sent did she receive a reply. “I’m on my way. Bringing coffee.” Sighing heavily, she leaned against the counter. ‘Coffee sounds good,’ she thought to herself as she put a pot on the back burner to make a broth for Cullen. 

Rylen showed up in less than fifteen minutes from her text, a tray of coffees in his hands and a brown paper bag. “Figured you could use a treat lass,” smiling he placed it all down on the counter. “How’s he doing? More importantly how are you doing?”

“I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse too.” Weakly smiling she pulled the paper cups from their holder before stashing the cardboard carrier in the recycling under the sink. “He had a fever last night, start of one this morning. Was sick and went back to sleep. I have some broth slowly working on the stove for him.” 

Pulling open the bag, Rylen set out the two fluffy doughnuts on napkins, “he’s been through a lot. Tough bastard. He’ll pull through just fine.”

“You think so? I’ve been so worried. His chart is unique… hell he is.” Rubbing her temples, she took a seat across from Rylen at the table. “Thanks for coming by. I really needed this today.”

“You look like you haven’t slept well in a while. Talk to me Lara, you know I’m good for it.” Rylen blew across the steaming cup as he tore the doughnut into bite sized pieces. Giving her his full attention, he listened as she told him about her financial situation, how her brother’s pension wasn’t enough to keep doing what she was doing. While the mortgage on the house was paid off, the cost of keeping the house stocked and medical items in was becoming too much. It was more than likely if nothing changed Cullen would be the last patient, she’d be able to take in for at least a year. Retrieving her resume from the top drawer in the kitchen she flopped into the seat, “I haven’t worked outside of this for four years. I don’t have any marketable skills. Rylen….”

“Hush I come with good news. The team has put together a good bit of money,” digging into the paper bag he was grinning wide. Holding a white envelope in his fingers he smiled. “It’s two months worth of your usual budget. Don’t ask how I put it together, I’m fairly resourceful.”

“Rylen…” again the tears clung to the edge of her eyes before they began to spill freely down her cheeks. “Thank you. Oh, a million times thank you.” 

“Ah, lass, consider it an early Christmas gift. Speaking of that. I see you haven’t got your usual decorations up. Let me pull up the tote for you.” Pulling his chair out he calmly strolled over to the door leading down into the basement and disappeared. Lara was thankful he was giving her a moment to collect herself. Sniffling hard she pulled her sleeve over her fist and tried her best to clean up her face. In the silence she caught the mumbling coming from the treatment room. 

“L…Lara…” Cullen managed to get himself out of the bed, stumbling he caught himself against the doorway. Pressing his back against it, he closed his eyes tight trying to collect himself best he could. Gripping his head in one hand he tried to steady himself, make the fog and pain disappear. “Whoa there!” Rylen grabbed him about the waist and helped guide him back to bed. “Easy does it. You can’t just go mucking about Cullen.”

“Ry… Rylen?” Confusion clearly painted upon his face Cullen looked from Rylen to the image of Lara as she came in the room, a tray in her hands. “What…”

“Came by to see how you were doing? You’ve seen better days friend.” Rylen took a seat beside the bed. “You need to listen to the lass, she knows what’s she’s doing.” 

Something garbled came out of Cullen’s mouth, but Lara couldn’t understand a word. Tending to his side she checked his forehead, he was still burning up. “Rylen, I think he’s officially in full withdrawal.”

“I can see.” Rylen’s face fell. “Hang in there,” he squeezed Cullen’s hand as he aided Lara in getting him comfortable. “I left the tote in the living room, where you normally put up your decorations.” Seeing Cullen groan and roll he backed away. “I’ll give you room to work.”

“I won’t be long.” Flashing him a weak smile she turned her full attention to Cullen. “Hush I’m right here.” Terror gripped his face as he looked about the room, clearly lost in a delirium filled nightmare. “Cullen, it’s Lara. Can you hear me?” His answer was to grab her arm, pulling her down on top of him. “Don’t leave, please don’t leave.” It was a croaking, hoarse request. “I won’t. I’m right here.” Stroking his hair, she was laying beside him. Humming her usual tune seemed to calm him. Being so close she could feel the hammering of his heart, the pure fear rolling off him in radiating waves. Running her fingers through his hair she caught him utter something, “what?” It came out so quickly she didn’t mean to ask it. In his stupor he sighed and half pet her face, “love. I called you love.” 

Freezing in her place her mind went blank. Who could he be talking to or seeing? It surely wasn’t her. But her heart ached to hear him call her that. Honest and pure, not the delirium he was mired in. “Oh Cullen, please close your eyes and try to rest.” 

“Lara,” he sighed as his eyes fluttered, “I’ll try.” 

Continuing to stroke his hair and hum, he slipped back into a light sleep. Pulling the blankets up about him she sighed. In four years, she’d been called many things, many names and heard many tales. Every time she pretended to play along with the delusion, helping ease them in their darkest moments. None of them ever remembered what she’d done or what she’d said. It was her small sacrifice to be the long-lost girlfriend, sister, aunt or wife that helped get them through the worst parts. Never, in all her time had she come across a patient who called her name. Initially she wanted to fluff it off as a coincidence, nothing more, but she’d be lying if she didn’t wish it was her. Sighing she tucked him in tightly, checking his temperature against her wrist she dabbed at his forehead with the clothe next to him.

It happened. Perhaps it shouldn’t have but she did it. Leaning in close she pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. Slapping her hand over her mouth she needed to get out of the room. Taking several rushed steps, she ducked out into the living room. There was Rylen busy setting up the artificial tree in its usual yearly corner. “Oh! Thank you!” She tried to focus on the change of scenery and forget how warm and real Cullen had been against her. “It’s the least I could do. It looks like you’ll be spending all day rushing back and forth with him. Once I’m done here, I’ve got to make a run to the grocery store. They’ve got your order ready.” Winking he plopped the top tier of the tree on. “There, just needs a quick fluff before you put on your lights.”

“I appreciate this Rylen. I owe you.”

“No, no such thing lass.” He chuckled as he dusted his hands off. “Just take care of my brother. He needs this and deserves to be free.” Running his hand through his cropped ebony hair he sighed. “I’ll come by in an hour, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Maybe I’ll have it fluffed by then.” Chuckling she walked with Rylen to the door. “You are too kind to me.”

“While others forget, I do not.” Rylen smiled back as he reached for his coat. “One hour. Promise.”

Nodding she shut the door behind him as he went. Turning back to the tree she smiled, it was one of her favorite things and so close. Padding off to the tree she began spacing out the branches while humming her favorite Christmas carol. Several moments passed as she worked away, pulling and checking how it looked. She remembered how her mother used to fuss over the look, how it had to appear as real as possible. “Mom, if you wanted it to look real, then we should just buy a tree.” Kaleb razzed her as she stepped back to inspect it for the eighth time. “I don’t want to water the blighted thing everyday. Artificial is more than fine if you do it right.” She’s scrubbed the top of his head. 

Stepping back herself she nodded, “I think you’d be proud of this one mom.” Dusting her hands off she sighed. Her hands were covered in little scraps and a couple cuts from the spiny branch material. Heading over to the cabinet she grabbed out her hand cream and applied a small amount. Dipping her head into Cullen’s room she saw he was still sleeping, if not fitfully. Frowning she wished there was something more for him she could do, but truly it was best for him to sleep as much as he could off. Pacing back to the kitchen she set the kettle to boil, dumping the old tea from the pot before adding a chamomile bag. Pulling out two mugs she made sure to add a bit of honey to his. Hearing him groan she knew he was in the middle of another nightmare. Finishing pouring the boiled water into the pot she shut the stove off and went to his side.

He was again halfway out of bed, his eyes glossy as he mumbled words under his breath. “Whoa, Cullen you need to stay in bed.” Taking his hand, she calmly laid him back down, “let me turn on the tv for you.” Reaching for the remote she flicked it over to the hallmark Christmas movies. It was something that he probably didn’t watch and would aid in anchoring him to the here and now. Turning back to him she caught him burst into tears again, sweat heavy about his brow, his shirt clinging to him. “Hey,” her heart broke as she sat beside him in the bed. “I’ll bring you a tea in a moment. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m dying.” He groaned as he laid back against the puffed-up pillows. Sweat clung to every part of his body, and it felt like fire was rushing through his veins yet under it all there was a thirst. A hunger. “Water, please.” 

“I’ll bring some ice water and tea.” Rising quickly, she rushed from the room. In turn he rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms, trying to force his eyes to focus. It took nearly everything he had to keep his stomach from pushing up his throat. Leaning against the headboard he looked up at the ceiling. This was it. How he died, or at least he felt like it. Trying his best to remain calm he began counting the small star shapes upon the ceiling. Her warm hand upon his pulled him from his bleary math. “I… I feel…”

“Like death, I assume.” Sweetly she dabbed at his temples with a warm clothe. “Take a sip of the water, then some tea.” Helping him hold the cup she cooed at him and talked. Just talked. Nothing in particular, but the sound was comforting. Even if he couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. It was akin to swimming in molasses. Every sense was sluggish, and he had to use every bit of his will to remain aware and alert. “Rest,” she reassured him again as he tried to rise from the bed. “Your effort is incredible, but you’ll need it to fight what’s happening inside of you. Please, I beg you stop.” Why was that line clear? Crystal clear. Pausing in his motions he caught the tears edging her eyes. “I… you’re crying…” He pressed his palms into his head, fingers digging into the hair as he closed his eyes tight. Focusing every bit of remaining energy in calming the storm through his body. “I… I’m hurting you.”

“No!” Choking on the words as she grabbed for his wrists. “You’re different then the others. Stronger, more stubborn too.” She weakly chuckled as she pulled his hands down and into his lap. “I’m scared for you. I’ve never seen one with your spirit. Your… power.” Cupping his jaw in her hand she shook her head. “I have faith you will pull through this, but you need to let me help you. You can’t do this all on your own.” Reaching beside her she grabbed the cup of tea. “Here, take a sip. It’s chamomile with a bit of honey. Then, if that stays down, I can get you a bit of broth. I… I made a fresh batch just for you.” He could hear her voice crack, her eyes rimmed red as she held the cup. “I… I shall try to let you help me. It’s… old habits die hard.” Taking in a sip he felt the swirl of fog about his body, the hot liquid as it travelled down his throat. “Is this the worst?” 

“Not even close.” Hanging her head, she sighed. “But I will be here, no matter what. I won’t leave your side.”

“Thank you.” He nodded as he took another sip. “I appreciate it.”

After some time, he slipped back into a waking sleep and Lara went about the few things she knew she needed in order to prepare for the next stages. Placing several clothes by his bedside table she restocked the CBD oil and finally filled a water bottle with ice and water. By the time she finished it was late in the afternoon and she was beginning to feel the exhaustion she’d tried to stave off. Checking her messages, she let Rylen know about Cullen’s slip into the early stages, and that his plan to help out would have to wait a few days. At least until Cullen was out of the darkest bits. Stepping into the living room she noticed the half-decorated tree. Pausing to look back in on Cullen she shook her head. “Not today,” she sighed as she collected a few more items and trudged into the kitchen. She hadn’t eaten all day and now was probably the only chance she’d have. Pulling out something quick and microwavable she burned her tongue on it, trying to rush her meal in order to get back to Cullen’s side. Grumbling at herself she hurried and settled into the old armchair. Reading her book, she rocked until sleep called her name.


	8. What Do I See

Cullen’s mumbling and incoherent rambling woke her at some point in the middle of the night, that much she was aware of. Wiping the sleep from her eyes she saw him thrash about, mutter curses and bits of prayers in equal measure. Rising best she could she yawned and went to touch him. “Shhh, Cullen it’s Lara. You’re not in Kinloch anymore. Rest.” Taking the clothe by the bed she dipped it in the bowl of water and rung it out. Dabbing at his face she hummed a song, something current and easy to remember. As she worked, he calmed, and quietly slipped back into a light sleep. Rinsing the rag out she yawned again before checking the time. “Two am is a horrid time my friend.” She sighed as she placed the clothe back on the stand. Half slumping into the chair next to him, she picked up the book off the table. Cracking open the spot she’d been reading to him before she began. Slowly as her sluggish brain tried to wrap around the words. 

“Ame… You won’t… I can’t…” Cullen mumbled as his brow twisted and he ground his teeth. Closing her book again she checked him. His forehead was hot, far hotter than he should have been. “You’re burning up.” Wringing the clothe out again, she dabbed at his forehead. As she touched him, he seemed to sooth. “I wonder if you’ve ever had someone there for you,” speaking more to herself as she always did with her patients, she took his hand. “You’ll make it. Just keep fighting.” Gasping she wasn’t expecting him to squeeze her hand. None of her patients had been even slightly cognitive during this stage of their detox. “Cullen?”

“Water…” He groaned out as he rolled onto his side. Struggling he managed to get himself into a half sit only to slump back against the head board. “Please.”

“Right, right,” stunned she rushed out of the room to the kitchen. She hadn’t anticipated him needing anything. All her other patients had spent at least two to three days in this state, requiring nothing other than her monitoring them. With shaking hands, she dumped some ice into a cup and filled it with water. Sticking a straw in it, she wasted no time in getting back to his side. “Careful, it’s cold.” Helping to guide the straw to his lips she eased down onto the bed next to him. Watching him slowly draw in the icy liquid she couldn’t help herself, reaching out she stroked the hair back from the edge of his forehead. 

“That feels really nice,” he sighed as the straw fell from his lips. “Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re…. you’re welcome.” She blushed, not realizing she was doing it at all. “How do you feel?”

“Like death,” he weakly chuckled as his eyelids drew closed. “But I have faith in you.” Taking her hand, he drew in a long deep breath, “my guardian angel…” before he slipped back into a shallow sleep. Tucking him back in she jotted down the few notes about his condition on the chart. Yawning again she plodded off to the kitchen for some coffee. There was no way of knowing for sure if he’d be asleep the whole night and it was best to have a pot on just in case. Turning around the corner she noticed the lights on the tree. “What…” Shaking her head she sighed, a note stuffed in the branches. Pacing over she took it down. “Dear Lara, I said I’d be back for the groceries. Didn’t want to bother you so I let myself in. Put it all where you like it. Don’t worry about a thing lass. Couldn’t bare the sight of a barren tree so close to Christmas. Take your moments when you can. Much love, Rylen and the boys.” Smiling wide she held the letter to her chest. Something glimmered just where the note was, “Rylen…” she choked. There hung for her to see was a custom-made ornament with a picture of her brother set in the shape of a snowflake. She’d mentioned doing something like it for Kaleb a while back, and with funds being short she hadn’t been able to. Cupping it in her hand she sighed, “I owe you one you Starkhaven rogue.” Stepping back, she loved how it shimmered, the way the ornaments refracted the light, so it appeared to dance about the room. Tucking the letter on the mantle she felt more awake and headed into the kitchen. 

Poking through her fridge she chuckled as she pulled out a giftwrapped package. Flipping the tag over she smiled wide, “a little treat. Don’t have to wait til Christmas. Less you like it a bit green.” Shutting the fridge door, she placed in on the counter before peeling back the wrapping paper. Inside a plastic clamshell was a set of six, dark chocolate molten lava cakes. “Oh Rylen, bless your heart.” Carefully returning them to the fridge she yawned again. Hearing Cullen groan she decided it was best to return to his side. 

Filling her own water bottle with ice she trudged back into the room. He was in a half sit, curled about himself as he mumbled incoherently. “Whoa there,” touching his arms, ever aware of how quickly these episodes could turn she eased herself down onto the bed beside him. “Cullen, can you hear me?”

“Hurts…. Everything, hurts.” Grunting out the words he was shaking. “How… how do you do this?”

Wrapping her arms around him, she eased his head down into her chest, “because I care. Because no one should have to do this alone. Because I want to make a difference. Even if you might be the last one for a while…” choking the words out she cleared her throat as she ran her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. Closing her eyes, she struggled to hold back the wave of exhaustion and emotions threatening to swallow her. “I’m right here. You’re going to be alright, I promise.” She knew she couldn’t guarantee it, knew it was an empty kindness to help ease his discomfort. But Maker did she want it to be true, with all that she was she was willing it. Pushing the energy out of herself into him as if she could heal him by will alone. “It’s not true, but I appreciate it.” He gritted it out, barely a mouse’s squeak but he got it. “I won’t do that to you.”

“Do what?” She couldn’t wrap her head around what he meant. What he was trying to say. “Cullen?”

“I’m… tired… don’t leave.” She felt the weight increase and with nothing to brace her she half toppled onto the bed, his head across her chest, arm over her hips. “Well, snuggle right in there.” Weakly chuckling, she wrapped her arms around him. Trying in desperation to make it happen, to make the lyrium leave him. 

Exhaustion filled her as she lay, half wrapped in him and unwilling to fight it any longer she allowed it to drag her into sleep. When the sun’s rays filtered through the blinds and clipped at her eyes, she barely registered where she was. Feeling his weight against her she instinctively began check him. He was breathing evenly, steady and deep. His heart beat was strong and for the most part he seemed well. Running her fingers through his hair she could feel he’d been sweating. He’d need a shower, or something to that nature. Instantly, she froze. There was no way he’d be able to get himself into the bath let alone strong enough to wash himself. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal in nearly two days now, and there was a good chance he wouldn’t be able to eat today. 

“Mmm.” He mumbled as he clutched at her tighter, holding her to himself like a living teddy bear. “Lara,” he murmured her name and her heart skipped a beat. Trying to remind herself he was half delirious she closed her eyes for a moment. “Good morning Cullen. How are you feeling?”

“Better, but worse.” Grunting he rolled to his back, throwing his free arm over his eyes. “My head is spinning and throbbing. My feet are freezing too.”

Letting out a long yawn she rose to a sit, seeing his bare feet hanging out of the blankets. “Can you make it to the shower? It’s just behind the door by my chair.”

“You thought of everything when you built this,” he chuckled as he struggled to sit. “But I don’t think I can manage.” 

“A shower would make you feel better.” Pausing she swallowed her concerns, “I can help, if you need it.”

“You could? I would love a hot shower.” Sighing he wobbled as he rose, “but I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” She blinked a few times before letting out a snort. “I’m no push over.”

“I trust you are strong, but I’m not a small man. Were I to slip, or fall, I could do a great deal of harm to you.” Patting his thighs, he smiled, “I don’t trust these right now. Not with how I’m feeling.”

“The shower is a sit in shower, so there is no risk of falling. Even the shower head is hand held, so you don’t have to worry about cleaning.” She rattled the facts off to him, trying hard not to think of those thick thighs and what they looked like without his lounge pants. Maker she felt the heat curl up her cheeks. “I…”

“I could manage, I think. It’s not far.” Pushing himself to the edge of the bed his face went white. “Then again, I’m finding this taxing.” Hanging his head, he began to blush. “I know this is asking a lot of you, but could you aid me? I don’t think I can manage alone, and a shower would really be a blessing right now.”

“Of course.” She half shot up. “I’ve done this before give me a moment.” Rushing up and into the hall, she paused for a breath. She had done this before, many times. Why was he any different? Grabbing the small transfer wheelchair from the front closet she drew in a tight breath. “Hang on, one more second.” Rushing it into the room, she pushed it next to him and turned immediately to the bathroom door. Throwing it wide she grabbed a towel from the shelf. “Here,” walking back over she unfolded the towel and laid it over his lap. “I’ll help you wriggle your bottoms off. The towel will cover you.” Reaching under the towel she met his hands and helped tug them down. With his underwear and pants in hand she turned and laid them on the chair. “The bed lowers, I’ll get you lined up with the chair, then you can just slide yourself on. Then I’ll wheel you in and you can slide over to the chair. I’ll get the water nice and warm for you and there is a hook you can reach to hang up the towel. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“Sounds like a plan,” blinking a few times he gave his head a shake. “I feel foggy.”

“Come on, the shower will help.” Pushing the button on the side of the bed, she stayed close to him to be sure he didn’t fall. When the bed was low enough, she held out her arm and let him slip into the chair. Everything else went as she stated. Getting the water just right wasn’t too hard and with a final heads up that she was just outside the door she waited for him. 

Sitting in her chair she sat in silence, just listening to the constant patter of water as it struck the tile. At some point she slipped back into a light sleep, eased back in her arm chair. The sound of the door handle clicking stirred her. “Hmm…”

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” His voice nearly shot her into a full stand. “Oh!” Blinking away the sleep from her eyes she realized he was sitting in the wheelchair, the towel wrapped about his hips. “I… I should get you a change of clothes.” Rushing from the room, she almost slammed the door behind her, half stumbling out into the hall. Taking in a few quick breathes to steady her rapidly beating heart she marched across the hall and collected some fresh clothes for him. Something comfortable and soft without seams or tags. Knocking upon the door she waited for him to acknowledge her before barely opening the door. Keeping her head down she placed the clothes on the bed and rushed out without another word. 

Heading straight to the kitchen she went about getting coffee for herself and tea for him. Putting together a plate for his breakfast she focused on foods that wouldn’t upset his stomach. With her head down and focused she missed the old creaking of the bedroom door. Stirring a bit of honey into the fresh chamomile tea she nearly shrieked when she caught movement behind her. He had managed to drag himself into the kitchen and noisily pulled the chair out across from her. With a heavy bead of sweat at his temples he offered her a sweet smile. “The shower helped. I don’t feel like complete death.”

“Cullen, you didn’t need to come to the kitchen. I was just getting ready to bring everything to you.” Trying to hide her shock she placed the plates before him. “But perhaps a bit more natural light wouldn’t hurt.” Focusing on opening the blinds she tried to scrub the image of his well-defined abs, cut chest and strong arms from her head. He was a patient after all, she shouldn’t have these… feelings. Stifling the gasp at the sudden realization she didn’t know what to do. Pulling the blinds up and pinning the curtains back she noticed the influx for snow. “Damnit. Looks like a storm brewing.” 

“We’ll be fine inside. Unless you have to go out. Please don’t go out in this.” Cullen’s voice was so gentle and soothing it made her heart flutter. “I don’t plan on it. I have a few things I need to pick up, but it can wait.” Watching as the heavy snow flakes fell from the sky, she pulled her phone from her pocket. With a quick Google search, she sighed loudly. The entire week was calling for extreme cold temperatures and heavy snow. “When it rains…” she muttered as she reached for her mug and drew in a quick sip. There wasn’t much she needed to do, but it did mean she’d have to shovel the driveway and that made her groan. “Oh, we don’t have to go anywhere. Promise.” Turning and offering him a gentle smile she gripped her mug. “How do you feel dear?”

“Rough.” That was the biggest understatement he’d ever told. Every nerve in his body was humming in a near constant state of pain. It had been a monumental task just getting out of bed. While the shower had helped to alleviate some of the pain and muscle cramping it left him feeling more drained than healed. Taking a cautious sip of the hot tea before him he was glad for the soothing rush of warmth that trailed its way down his throat towards his stomach. Closing his eyes, he didn’t want to focus on the pain, on the frustration of feeling useless and lost. Instead he caught the sound of her phone ringing. “Excuse me,” she rushed from the room towards the living area. Whomever it was had clearly upset her, her features instantly drooped and there was a sense of fear that came from her as she passed him. 

Keeping her voice as low as she could she didn’t want to take this call. She’d been avoiding it for several weeks. Creditors. Several debts were piling up and with the little income she was making, it wasn’t enough to get her out from underneath her debts. On top of that the season made it nearly impossible to get a job; no one was hiring. She knew. She’d placed her resume out at nearly fifty locations and nothing.

From the kitchen, he could hear a muffled chatter from the living room. Curiosity spurred his slow movements as he dragged himself off the chair and towards the sound. Coming closer her voice began to clear up and he could make out what she was saying. “Yes, I know I’m be in debt. No, I’m not selling the house. Please, it’s Christmas, I can’t get… of course I’m going to make payments. No. I… I’ve already applied to everywhere in town. No one is hiring. I…” He couldn’t bare to hear another word. She was struggling, that was clear and here he was eating her food, wasting her water and draining the last of her funds. All before Christmas. Returning to his room he sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do. Everything felt foggy and moving his limbs reminded him of trying to run through mud. Deciding he needed to wait for his brain to collect itself he laid back upon the bed. 

Hanging up, Lara didn’t know what to do. Rubbing her hands together she was running numbers through her head. ‘If I sell off… no I can’t…’ huffing out loud she remembered Cullen. He was going to be in the depth of his withdrawal soon and she needed to prepare him for what was to come. Pocketing her phone, she poked her head around the corner and glanced into his room. He was there, laying on the bed. “Poor thing,” walking in she caught the light rise and fall of his chest. “You need all the rest you can get,” running her fingers through his hair she felt her heart flutter in her chest as a soft smile spread over his lips. Taking a seat in her chair she reached for her crochet hook and material. ‘Take some time to relax, while you can.’ She thought as her fingers moved and her mind quieted. Wrapped and half swaddled in the growing blanket she felt her eyelids gradually get heavy, until they closed completely. 

Stiffness woke her. Blinking away the sleep she felt it instantly. Something wasn’t right. Half bolting up she noticed the empty bed. “Cullen….” Nearly leaping from the chair, she dashed about, rushing from room to room. No where. He wasn’t there. Looking at the front hall, his jacket and boots were gone. “No… NO!” Ripping her phone from her pocket she dialed. 

“Hey Lara how…”

“He’s gone! He’s gone!” Lara was in full blown panic. “He’s nearly in full withdrawal, he’s delusional. Rylen…”

“We’re on our way. Touch nothing. We’ll find him and bring him back lass. You have my word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me. A bit of writers block, a touch of new job and some tired adjusting and I think I've managed to get back into the swing of things. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and if all goes well, another one will be out in a week. Tops. Cheers!


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